


In Sickness...

by croskin8_7_1



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Sick Sidney, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1438585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/croskin8_7_1/pseuds/croskin8_7_1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geno takes care of Sid while he's sick. Sid is stupid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Sickness...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [red_velvet_wings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_velvet_wings/gifts).



Never -and Sid could not stress never enough- in his life had he been sick. Playing hockey meant you had to keep your body in perfect condition and pray to every hockey god that it was everybody else who got on the school flu bandwagon. He guessed 26 years of never being sick was his limit on luck. 

Whatever this was, it was awful. It felt like he had been slammed into the boards multiple times and the last Sid knew of, they had just played the Ducks and not the Capitals. He slowly opened his eyes to the sun coming in through the windows of the hotel room and managing to only shine right in his eyes, making the pounding in his head five times worse. Groaning, he tried to sit up- but a firm hand to the middle of his chest stopped him. A form leaned over him, blocking some of the light and Sid turned his head to see who’d made the light lessen. Which, you know; amazing.

It was Geno. Turning his head a little further, Sid saw that Geno was sitting in one of the hotel chairs that he must’ve pulled up beside the bed. The best way to describe how Geno looked would be… Tired, Sid’s brain supplied. Bags as dark as Pens’ jerseys lined his chocolate brown eyes and a frown turned his plump lips downward instead of displaying his usual smile.

Sid tried to ask what was wrong but all that came out was a croak. “Drink slow,” commanded Geno, placing a straw to Sid’s lips. Sid did as he was told, happy to taste orange Gatorade instead of water. After a few sips, Geno took away the drink which earned a whine of protest.  
Now that his throat wasn’t as dry as a desert, he tried again. “What’s wrong?”

Geno’s frown deepened. “Sid sick for days. Trainers say fever and flu. Temperature 103 and not break.” At the mention of temperature, Geno reached out and put his hand on Sid’s forehead. If it were anybody else fussing like that, Sid probably would have been freaking out. I was Geno though, so Sid went with it. “Not hot anymore,” Geno told him after an awkward moment of silence. Geno took his hand away and Sid wasn’t sure Geno was right because his face was definitely on fire, and it probably looked like a tomato. He just wasn’t sure if it was the last of the fever, or from Geno touching him.

Clearing his throat and praying he sounded normal, Sid tried to understand the situation. “How long have I been sick?” he asked, confused. He didn’t remember being sick. The last thing in his memory was going back to his hotel room after winning while the rest of the team went for celebratory drinks. That was…

“Two days,” said Geno. “First day fever. Flower come talk to you and found you shivering in blankets. Trainers try to rid fever but not break till morning. Mix of throw up and sleep day two.”

“Wow. I don’t remember any of that,” Sid said with a sigh. “Well, at least this happened while we had a break so it didn’t interfere with the games and team.”  
The look on Geno’s face went from unhappy to the pissed off look he got when someone on his line missed an easy goal. “What’s wrong Geno?”

“Nothing,” replied Geno coldly. “Trainers check over then Flower watch you so I train.” Geno got up from the chair and was at the door before Sid even knew what was going on. Geno paused inside the opened room door long enough to emphatically say, “Sid stupid,” before he was gone and a couple of trainers swarmed Sid.

XXXXXX

Flower came in after the trainers had left. Nothing to be worried about except dehydration they’d said, hence the 5 bottles of Gatorade on the night stand. Flower came over and sat in the chair Geno had quickly vacated. The goalie looked a lot better than Geno had. No bags but he was frowning.

“What the fuck did you say to Geno?” asked Marc. “The big guy should’ve been jumping for joy after seeing you.”

Sid sputtered, “I didn’t say anything.  I asked what was wrong and he told me I had been sick for a couple days. Then I told him I didn’t remember any of it.”

“Ok, pretty harmless. Is that all you said?”

“...No,” Sid admitted. “I said it was good thing this happened on break so it didn’t affect games or the team.”

“Vous ȇtes stupide Sid,” said Flower with passion.

“Why does everybody keep calling me stupid?!”

“Because you are. Geno looked after you the entire time you were sick. That man sat his ass down in this chair and didn’t leave it except to go to the bathroom,” Fleury said, picking at lint on his shirt. When he didn’t get a reply, he looked up to find Sid staring at him in horror. “Yep. No matter what anybody tried to do to get him to sleep or eat, he refused. Coach even threatened to suspend him a couple games. He wouldn’t budge.”

“Why would he do that?” asked Sid. He was touched but confused. Hockey meant as much to Geno as it did Sid, why would he jeopardize the game for Sid?

“I know you did not just ask that, Sidney,” Marc tutted. When Sid just continued to stare at him in confusion he snorted and said heavenward, “Oh mon dieu, quel idiot.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“I keep calling you that because you’re the only person I know who can’t see that the person they’re in love with -don’t make that face at me, Sidney, everybody already knows- is in love with them, too.”

“What do you mean, ‘everyone?’ I haven’t told anyone,” Sid said in concern. What if Geno had noticed and that’s why he was so angry when he left?

“This is going to get me kicked out of the betting poll but I can’t watch you two idiots for another day, it’s too painful. Geno has liked you since the moment he met you, and loved you for almost as long.”

“How do you know?”

The goalie let out an exasperated sigh, “I know because he looks at you the way I look at Vero. You walk into a room and he becomes happy no matter how shitty his day was.  Everything about you is perfect to him, even your routines. Dude’s crazy for you.”

“Wow Marc. You should write for Hallmark.”

“Yeah, fuck you, too. Now that we discussed that -which we’re never doing again- how do you feel?”

“Like Ovechkin slammed me into the boards a few times. Still not as bad as the concussions though.”

“You do look pretty awful.”

“Gee, thanks. That makes me feel so much better.”

“Well it’s the truth so, yeah. I’m going to go find Geno and send him back here.” Fleury got up and was halfway to the door when he turned and looked at Sidney. “When he gets here, you are going to tell him.”

Sid opened his mouth to argue but the look on his friend’s face brooked no room for argument. “Fine,” said Sid petulantly, watching the other man leave. “Hey,” Sid called before he’d shut the door, “what did you mean by ‘betting poll?’”

“Everyone was betting on when you and Geno were going to get your heads out your asses and get together,” Marc said with a smile. The smile turned into a full hearted laugh when Sid gaped at him and turned bright red. And then, just because he couldn’t resist, “Mario won the bet.” Sid turned even redder and hid under the covers. As Marc was leaving, Sid squeaked out an almost inaudible, “Oh my god.”

By time he exited the room, Fleury’s sides were aching from laughter. “Totally worth it,” he chuckled as he shut the door.

XXXXXX

Geno stood, watching Fleury turn the corner before heading back to check on Sid. The anger he had been feeling was gone, replaced with a sadness. No matter what happened to Sid, all he cared about was hockey. Not even his health mattered.

Geno sighed to himself. He’d probably be the same way if the situation were reversed. Still, that didn’t mean he’d say that out loud to the people who cared about him. Sid must know that he cared for him by now. The man had eyes for God’s sake. The whole team and coaching staff knew. Hell, even Mario knew. 

Putting his jumbled thoughts to the side, Geno made his way to Sid’s room. He was probably asleep again but still…. He was Geno’s friend, even if he was an idiot. 

Quietly opening the door so as to not wake Sid, Geno stepped into the room. Sid wasn’t in bed though; he was standing at the window with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice somebody entering the room. 

He’s doubting himself, Geno thought. He’d seen it multiple times when people had said things that made Sid question what he thought was right. He always crossed his arms in front and thought about what he could’ve seen sooner or done better. What is it this time? Geno wondered.  
Geno closed the door and made his way over to Sid. A hand on his shoulder startled Sid out of his thoughts. Turning, he saw the Russian looking at him worriedly, but also with unmistakable fondness. “Why doubting self, Sid?”

Smiling, he took hold of the Russian’s hand that was resting on his shoulder and began rubbing soothing circles over the back of it. “You know me so well. Something Flower said has me thinking, that’s all.”

“Need me hurt for you?” asked Geno concerned.

“No, it’s ok, his advice actually helped. I wanted to thank you for taking care of me.  I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t consider your feelings before speaking. Do you forgive me?” asked Sid, looking up at Geno with pleading eyes.

Geno pulled Sid to him and placed their joined hands over his heart. “Never stay mad at Sid,” Geno said.

Sid sighed in relief. “Good,” he said laying his head on Geno’s shoulder. Sid’s free arm went around his waist. They stood there in silence for what seemed like an eternity but in reality was probably only a few minutes just enjoying the view and the quietness. 

Geno decided to break the silence. “Love you, Sid.”

Sid’s jaw dropped and he leaned back to stare up at Geno. He said it with no prompting and was confident when he said it. He made it seem so easy and not scary.

Tell him now you idiot! yelled a voice in Sid’s head. Shaking his head to clear it, he smiled. Making sure to pronounce it right, carefully Sid said, “Я тоже тебя люблю.” 

It was Geno’s turn to stare at Sid in awe. “You learn speak Russian?” whispered Geno in wonder.

“I’ve been teaching myself for a while now. It wasn’t too hard after I got the writing down,” Sid said, embarrassed. “I thought it’d be easier for you, and besides- now I can understand when you and Ovechkin are talking about me,” he said with a smile, shrugging it off.

“Sid learn Russian for me?” asked Geno touched.

Sid nodded. Geno couldn’t help it, the urge was too strong. Framing Sid’s face, Geno leaned down and kissed him. It started out chaste but quickly escalated when Sid licked into Geno’s mouth. Sid’s tasted minty. He probably brushed his teeth. Underneath the mint though was a taste that was purely Sid and it was intoxicating. Unfortunately, air soon became scarce so they broke apart, both panting as if they had just finished practicing speed drills. They didn’t go far; their foreheads touching so that they breathed in each other’s air. 

“Love Sid in sickness and health,” Geno said hoarsely.

Sid let out a honking laugh. “Love you too G,” he said with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Vous ȇtes stupide Sid- You are stupid Sid
> 
> Oh mon dieu, quel idiot- Oh my god, what an idiot
> 
> Я тоже тебя люблю- I love you
> 
> Thanks to all who leave kudos and comments! Also, thanks to my sister who is my beta


End file.
